Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3)

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Sanctuary (Jezebel's Ladder Book 3) Page 26

by Scott Rhine


  “He also has a family history of suicide. We can’t afford to be too careful.”

  Red nodded. “Work of some kind might help distract him. Do you have any idea what he could do for a camp duty?”

  “Just scrubbing pots like I used to. After slamming Toby for not cross-training, he’s not very long on ground-based skills.”

  “Navigation and laser targeting tend to require a spaceship and sight. We’re also not likely to find any Braille Arabic newspapers out here. Are there any other skills you’ve picked up on?”

  Mercy sighed. “He’s very good with his hands, a strong but delicate touch.” Commander Zeiss covered his smile. “Massage and maybe pottery are possibilities; although we need more bricks right now.”

  “I’ll tell Pratibha. Where’s your armor?” Zeiss asked, realizing what was different about the girl.

  “I forced Lou to wear the ‘Mother Hen’ coat so the new chicks would imprint on it, too.” The couple chuckled about that. “I’m hoping that time with the little ones will help him as much as it did me. Strut’s with him.” After a pause, she added, “Besides, I know nobody left here will be staring at my chest the whole time.”

  After Zeiss had them all mute their headsets, he said, “Officially, I wanted to notify you that Nadia has rigged a way to remold the hull metal—it’s a memory alloy and wants to return to its original shape. This is why we relaxed the schedules.”

  “The real reason I’m here?”

  The commander leaned forward. “When Red tried to punch in the destination colony for mapping our route, Snowflake blocked her. The word interdiction came up: to prohibit or place under an ecclesiastical or legal sanction.”

  “The aliens won’t let us go there anymore,” Red clarified.

  Mercy said, “Sounds like one of us broke a rule in the charter. Do you think it was Lou?”

  Red put her arm around Mercy. “Perhaps . . . okay, likely. The interface is also prompting for some input from the previous pilot. Every pilot action is now accompanied by a warning bell. It may only be a bug in the interface because the helix being raised never registered or something—like a car-door-open light on the dashboard.”

  “I never learned to drive, so I’ll have to take your word for that. The prompt could also indicate the desire for confession and the selection of a punishment from the list we gave in the charter.” Mercy gazed at Red’s face, searching for a clue. “That’s the sort of choice Snowflake might provide. Only, Lou can’t read the options with damaged optic nerves.”

  “We won’t know for certain until we talk to Sensei, but we can’t do that until the hull of the storage area can pressurize. Otherwise, there’s no return from the decontamination area.”

  Zeiss raised a finger. “This is board-level security. Please don’t mention the interdiction to anyone else. Aside from the obvious fact that someone else could be to blame, I don’t want to spread unfounded rumors.”

  Snorting, Mercy said, “Everyone’s going to guess why you’re visiting Sensei. They’re not stupid.”

  “That’s my problem,” insisted Zeiss. “Please follow the simple order.”

  “Is this the reason you were interrogating everyone before?”

  Red nodded.

  “And you trust me now?”

  “We need your opinions. Together, we represent a quorum of the planners. Auckland signed his voting proxy over to you, and Sojiro has entrusted me with his.”

  Mercy knew that Sojiro would jump into a volcano at a word from Zeiss. She was surprised, however, that the doctor had so much faith in her. “Sounds serious.”

  “In the event that Lou is the culprit for accidental manslaughter, we need a new sixth planner. I was thinking of Nadia. She’s demonstrated a talent for the alien materials. Red wanted Risa, who is almost as strong in that area, but has a broader base and works better with others.”

  “No,” Mercy said. “We made Yuki alternate.”

  Red said, “She’s on the disabled list. If it weren’t for her watching Toby, she’d be back at camp looking for work, too.”

  “We want a thorough map of planet Alcantara, for our own purposes and to radio back home. Yuki is the gravity-sensor expert.”

  “That data will take forever to collect and fifteen years to reach Earth receivers. Aren’t we hoping to be back by then?” Red complained.

  Zeiss licked his lips. Mercy could see wheels turning in his head, examining the idea from all angles, like a gemstone he wanted to purchase. “We have to plan for all contingencies. Okay, compromise. We put Yuki to work mapping, but induct a new alternate in case she can’t handle the load.”

  Red stated the obvious. “With week-long shifts, Nadia would be best to work with Park. I’ll support her as backup planner.”

  Mercy nodded her assent.

  Restoring his headset, Zeiss called up Yuki to give her the news. After his final congratulations, she replied, “I accept, Professor. Toby has offered to help me start tonight.”

  “He’s talking?” Zeiss asked. “That’s wonderful.”

  “It’s complicated. He’s a little . . . shy.”

  “Understandable. We’re cutting back on the staff in Olympus. That should help.”

  “I hate what I’m about to say because Mercy’s probably the one who got me this job.”

  “Affirmative,” he replied, trying not to tip off the others who weren’t on the radio.

  “Mercy reminds Toby too much of . . . the nurse. The two women were always together. They even fix their hair the same way. Worse, Mercy spends so much of her spare time searching for the body. I know I sound like a hypocrite because she never gave up on me. Toby appreciates the sentiment, too, but every time Mercy mentions . . . that name, he crawls back in his shell for another day.”

  “I see,” Zeiss said, looking at Mercy. “For how long?”

  “Toby’s refusing to even talk on the radio. He can resume medical duties this week, but he’s very fragile—in a Rain Man sort of way.”

  The commander sighed. “We’ll play it by ear, then. Zeiss out.” Removing the microphone, he said, “Looks like we’ll be using that new alternate sooner than we thought. Mercy, you need to stay groundside to help Auckland and take care of Lou.”

  “What? Why? What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing. The doctor finally came out of his autistic state and claimed it was because you finally left Olympus.”

  Mercy felt punched in the stomach and struggled to hold back tears. Her voice broke as she said, “I’ll go tell the others the good news.”

  She ran to the empty kitchen to get a grip on her emotions. There’s no I in team. Then she walked calmly back to her dorm, wanting to confide her pain to Lou. However, he wasn’t there. Oleander handed Mercy the lab coat. “Good, he found you. One of the chicks stopped trying. We need to know whether to intercede or let it fail.”

  “You sent him to ask me?”

  “Yeah, a couple minutes after you left.”

  Mercy searched everywhere before she enabled her microphone. Lou wasn’t answering, so she called security. “Herk, have you seen Lou?”

  “He left the caves to harvest more headache tea. I know it’s dark, but the lizards will be dormant at night and the path is easy to follow, even for him.”

  Zeiss had turned his comm to “off-duty” mode, so Mercy had to run to their cave and clap, the convention when there was nothing to knock on. “Mira?”

  Her friend came out a few seconds later, wearing a Tasmanian devil T-shirt and not much else. Last time she’d seen that particular shirt, Commander Zeiss had been wearing it.

  “What’s wrong?” Red asked.

  Mercy’s voice broke again. “We have a problem. I think Lou overheard us. I’m afraid what he might do to himself. Because he doesn’t have a link to the Collective Unconscious, Oleander won’t be able to find him. It’s dark and cold and . . .”

  “Shh. He’s one of us. We’ll find him.”

  Chapter 30 – Exile Island
r />   Mercy paced in the Garden Hollow longhouse. “We need to go out there. He could be lying in a ditch.”

  Red’s sole job was to keep her from running off alone to search. Her friend kept realigning to stay between Mercy and the door. “He passed winter survival in Mongolia. He can survive in a room-temperature, oversized garden.”

  “What if he fell in the water?”

  “He raced yachts in military school growing up.”

  “The waterfall might sweep him hundreds of meters down to smash him against the rocks.”

  “Sojiro!” Red bellowed over the radio.

  “Roger,” replied the artist. “Lou’s turned off the locator beacon on his comm gear, but his audible GPS is still active.”

  “GPS?” asked Red.

  “A prototype. It can tell Lou the relative direction and distance to any landmark.”

  “Oh, good. Where is he?” Mercy asked.

  “I just have a bearing for now, near the Prime Meridian,” Sojiro said as he rustled through underbrush. “I need you to be quiet.”

  “Why?” Red asked.

  “Because he picked Mercy’s voice to program the GPS, I need to listen for her to tell him where to go.”

  Red raised her eyebrows as she muted. “Something you want to tell me?”

  Mercy bit her lower lip. “No. He likes my voice when I read books to him because I do the voices. His parents never read to him like mine did.”

  “We’re the only ones here. Tell me what you’re not saying.”

  “It’s my fault Lou’s out there. He hates me.”

  “No one could hate you.”

  “Then why can’t I go to Olympus to search for him?”

  “Because Toby starts to twitch whenever someone reminds him of his bond-mate. It’s nothing personal; we just need our doctor coherent for the sake of the mission.” On her comp pad, Red brought up tracking for the search party’s transponder signals to distract Mercy.

  Long minutes passed before Herk announced, “He’s headed for the dock. We’re going to try to cut him off.”

  Labored breathing broadcast over the shared channel as they watched the red blip close on the waterline. Red had to hold the screen for fear Mercy would snap it. Eventually, Sojiro said, “Lou took the raft.”

  “He must be heading for the big island,” Mercy guessed. “We have to stop him.”

  Zeiss came over the channel. “Negative. Captain Llewellyn can make it on his own, or he wouldn’t try. He took an ocean-survival kit and his own bedroll. We have to wait till dawn to build a new boat. He won’t starve or go thirsty before then.”

  “But. . .”

  “He’s a big boy, Mercy. He’s trying to give the rest of us a chance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Exile is one of the options for punishment. If he is the violator, Sensei may let the rest of us go free.”

  “It’s not fair,” Mercy whined.

  “It’s the law, and we all agreed to it.”

  “Can I call Yuki and tell her how to find him? I need to know if he lands safely.”

  Zeiss weighed the silence. “Okay. Until her next official shift starts, she can do anything she wants to help.

  At just after midnight, a frantic Mercy called Olympus. Yuki replied, “Of course, dear. Anything for you—on one condition. You get some sleep. If Oleander tells me you’re wandering around, I’ll stop searching.”

  “Okay,” Mercy said. Red walked her back to her room. Mercy lay down on the mattress but didn’t sleep.

  At five in the morning, Mercy thought of something that could solve everything for Lou and possibly wreck her own life. However, she didn’t tell anyone because they’d never let her make the sacrifice. Every minute that passed, she examined the idea from a different angle. By sunrise, she’d decided that she had to commit to the plan—she’d driven him to exile, after all. What happened to her didn’t matter.

  At eight in the morning Garden time, Yuki called, “Mercy, wake up, girl.”

  “Already am.”

  “I found your sailor. Lou’s on a beach on the big island. He’s already made a lean-to out of the raft and built a fire.”

  “Thank you! What coordinates?”

  “That’s classified information. Z has declared him off limits for now. Lou broadcast a message after landing. He threatened to cut his own throat if anyone set foot on the island.”

  “I’ll call him. He’ll listen to me.”

  “No means no, girl. Give him time. It’s not like he’s going to get lost. There’s plenty of fruit, and he’ll call if he has a problem.”

  Mercy might have continued arguing, but Oleander snatched the radio off Mercy’s head. “Please, I need sleep. No more drama.”

  Sulking, Mercy walked to the mess hall to help with breakfast. After she built another raft, she was certain Zeiss would let her sail to the island to convince Lou. Another boat should only take another two or three shifts of daylight. Unfortunately, the construction could take every spare hour next weekend.

  ****

  All Yuki received from Snowflake the first session Saturday was a headache. Red had to come up to grant access and demonstrate. During her second session Sunday, Yuki started a high-resolution gravity scan of the entire desert planet. She coordinated with Toby’s window probe technique to match light-refractive qualities to densities in order to determine the minerals on the surface.

  After a day of background computation, they’d covered a band the height of Florida. Red nodded when she saw the results. “This is awesome, but it’s going to take another two weeks.”

  “I can lower the resolution.”

  “No. Relax. It’s not like we have anything else to do. Keep up the good work.”

  “Thanks,” Yuki said.

  When Red departed, the Japanese woman asked the stoic biologist, “What was that about?”

  “They’re stalling for some reason,” Toby guessed. “I smell Conrad Zeiss’ caution.”

  “Should I ask him? I mean, as a planner I have a right to know.”

  “No. Don’t confront him directly. He’ll obfuscate. Ask another planner, pretending you already know. Ask for advice on how to stall the others and for how long.”

  Yuki’s mouth quirked up in a smile. This called for a reward.

  That night, as they slept together, Yuki teased his body into a response before he woke up fully. With the light out, she nearly pressed her case to successful completion. However, Toby began hyperventilating in panic. No one was on duty in the control room, but several were asleep in the spare rooms. To keep him from waking the others, she smacked him firmly across the face. This caused his erection to return. This was new territory for her.

  Assessing the situation, she whispered, “So, you want to be punished?”

  “I deserve to be disciplined. I need it. Spare the rod, and you spoil the child.”

  “Um . . . the others might hear you if you cry out.”

  “They won’t hear us in the storage room.”

  ****

  Monday, during Yuki’s work shift, Snowflake and her comp pad did most of the hard work. She took the opportunity to do a little educational reading about masochism and submission.

  Wednesday, Sojiro let slip, “We need to tread water until at least a day after the hull is airtight.”

  “Do you want me to slow down the scan?” Yuki asked.

  “No. We’ll delay the release of the results, though. Analysis can take a while.”

  She nodded.

  On Thursday, she examined the log of Red’s experiments. The pilot kept trying to access the same file, to no avail. Red also asked several questions about Lou’s activities.

  Later, she asked Toby to interpret. He said, “I changed some files to hide the evidence. Lou wasn’t really drunk. I faked that. Red might be trying to clear him, but Zeiss has already put the letter of reprimand in his permanent file. I can’t tell you more, due to patient confidentiality.”

  Yuki almost la
ughed in his face. The Ethics page drove him to strange permutations. “Come with me to the storage room,” she said ominously.

  There, she practiced various forms of discipline on him until Toby was thanking her with tears in his eyes. As she was his personal attendant, no one else would see the red marks. He fell asleep, gripping her tightly. The doctor was so grateful to her that he would do absolutely anything.

  As second-in-command, and nominal commander of Olympus when Zeiss was groundside, Toby had access to a treasure trove of confidential data. Whenever he left his pad behind, say to use the bathroom, she could read files freely until he returned. There was so much data that she gave up reading and started photographing it.

  The next Saturday, she used Yvette’s leather sandals to lash him, pushing the game further than ever. When it reached the time for her to dole out pleasure, Toby leapt away from her hand as if burned. He snatched the leather sandal and ran to the showers, talking to himself into the wee hours.

  When Toby returned, he had fresh scratches on his back. Yuki had taken such care to leave no permanent marks, but he had made a botch of it. She’d have to lay down stricter rules. The next morning when she went to shower, someone had used her razor and left it in a shower stall.

  Was he shaving with a woman’s razor? She wouldn’t embarrass him by asking. However, he refused to speak to her Sunday morning or even look her in the eye. When Mercy called that evening, Yuki asked, “Does Toby . . . shave anywhere?”

  “No, but he loves to ogle and fondle women’s legs that are. He’s a real freak about the feet,” Mercy explained.

  “You mentioned something about this before. Give me some details.”

  “Yvette got a pedicure for the wedding. She even got the materials folks to concoct some nail polish. Bridezilla chose the color, of course. The medical kits up there have a complete set of tools for nail trimming. I’m sure Batty would love to watch you clip and file.”

  “Most enlightening. What favor can I do for my best friend and champion of the oppressed?”

  “Can you tell me Captain Llewellyn’s exact location on Exile Island?”

  “Sweetie, he’s bad news. Toby explained to me why women fall all over him—it’s the page influence. The Ideal Planets page has a kind of Svengali allure to women of science. The more he talks, the tighter you circle in his orbit. You need some distance, and you’ll see. Lou doesn’t care about anybody.”

 

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